


Some of the Homosexual Artifacts

by womenseemwicked



Category: Heathers (1988), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bad Flirting, Coming Out, Crack, Drabble, First Kiss, Flirting, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 17:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12916635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womenseemwicked/pseuds/womenseemwicked
Summary: Because my last fic was way fuckin' longer than I expected it to be, here is a stupidly short one. This is just a really short cracky scene that came to mind when I was rewatching Heathers the other day, but I felt the need to write it down anyway and was shocked at how seamlessly Heathers dialogue seems to fit into this world and these characters.





	Some of the Homosexual Artifacts

“So it’s true,” Billy says with entertained surprise when Steve opens the front door with a towel over one shoulder. "King Steve. How the mighty fall."

“Yeah, come on in Hargrove,” Steve says, rolling his eyes at the taunt as he turns away, but he does remove the towel from his shoulder. “You know, you’re early,” he says over his shoulder as he leads Billy to the kitchen of his massive house. “Max is still in the pool with the others.”

Billy glances out the window as he says this and he sees it for himself. Max and all her little dweeb friends, chaperoned by none other than the Wheeler bitch and her new boyfriend.

His eyebrow goes up again and he glances thoughtfully over at Steve, whose back is turned.

“I can wait,” he says mildly. “Anyway, who’s keeping King Steve company while all this goes on?”

Steve shoots him a slightly defensive look over his shoulder.

“They are,” he says, gesturing towards the kids who look anything but worried about the whereabouts of their third babysitter.

Billy smirks softly.

Steve deflates a little and returns to the fridge.

"D'you want something to drink?" he asks. "We have--"

"I'll have whatever you're having," Billy interrupts.

Steve pours a glass and slides it across the counter into Billy's open hand. Billy looks down.

"You're fucking with me," he surmises, his hackles just barely starting to rise.

Steve shakes his head and picks up his own glass from nearby, taking a sip. He shrugs.

"It's carbonated, not poisoned, Hargrove," he points out. "But I can get you something else if it's that much of an issue."

Billy rolls his eyes and drinks the mineral water, keeping his eyes on Steve like a challenge.

Steve laughs.

"All right tough guy. Pace yourself," he teases, passing Billy to head for the backyard.

But Billy doesn't let him get that far. With a hand on his arm, he pulls him short, just out of sight of the window and the sliding glass door. Their faces are close. Almost too close.

And then in an instant, they're closer. Steve freezes against him, no idea what to do with his hands. A part of him afraid he's being made fun of.

But when Billy pulls away his eyes are earnest. A little bit worried, and a lot into this. So Steve doesn't think. Just pushes Billy back against the wall and takes his mouth again, this time kissing him with all he's got. He's been idly curious about doing this for so long, it surprises him how similar it is to kissing a girl. Different in every way but still... the basics are the same.

Steve slips his leg between Billy's, more for balance than anything, and Billy groans and rolls his hips into it with intention.

"Fuck," Steve whispers. Okay maybe it's not so similar.

"We could," Billy offers ironically, his right hand reaching down to brush against Steve's matching erection.

Steve pulls back with a start.

"Are you insane?" he hisses.

Billy smiles at him like he knows the answer and, sure, perhaps he does.

"The kids--" Steve reminds him helplessly, gesturing toward the sliding glass door.

Billy chuckles and props himself back up off the wall so he's in Steve's space again, smiling predatorily.

"That loud, are you?" he teases. "Well, we wouldn't want to scar them then. Have them come looking and think I'm trying to kill you again."

Steve rolls his eyes and resists the little smirk the image of that brings to his face.

"God. If Sinclair caught us I think I'd die. Hell if any of them did. They still think you're a 'waste of Adams' or whatever. Their words."

"Atoms," Billy corrects. "And they're not far off. But you, Harrington?" he asks, letting the fingers of the hand still resting on Steve's shoulder play lightly with the curls at the nape of his neck. "Do you think I'm a waste of Adams?" his smirk has something behind it. Real interest, looks like. Concern, perhaps.

"You're still an asshole, but..." Steve frowns. "I thought you'd figured it out. Why'd you kiss me if you didn't think I liked you back?"

Billy shrugs.

"I hazarded a guess. I mean you clearly like cock."

Steve frowns, a little worried and unsure what to do with that.

"Based on what?" he asks, defensive.

Billy grins. "Mineral water."

"Oh, come on, a lot of people drink mineral water," Steve says, dismissive but still uncomfortable, "it's come a long way!"

"Sure, but this is Indiana," Billy points out, smirking. "I mean, if you don't have a brewski in your hand you might as well be wearing a dress."

"Oh, you're so smart," Steve rolls his eyes. "I guess that explains _your_ drinking habits. So in California did you drink beer all the time? Or were you a mineral water man?"

Billy laughs, short and barking, and lets his eyes graze down over Steve like he can't wait to eat him up.

"Oh I drank my fair share of both," he says, and Steve isn't so sure they're talking about mineral water anymore.


End file.
